One Night
by sprinklesoverglass
Summary: On a trip celebrating their engagement, Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger run into an old...er...friend. When Draco Malfoy makes them an offer that's hard to refuse, they run into trouble that may tear them apart. VKHG, then DMHG.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, Soggy here. I just reread this story and am extremely displeased with myself. I'm going to be rewriting this, and possibly all of my other, stories so they can suit my literacy fancies. Thanks for reading, please review:)

* * *

"Are you packed, 'Ermy?" called a tall, brawny man with dark hair and a fair complexion.

"Viktor, the Portkey isn't even set for another fifteen minutes, would you please employ a little patience?" replied Hermione Granger, rolling her eyes at the pet name he'd developed for her when he'd decided he didn't want to bother learning to say her name properly. He'd lost most of his accent years ago, and he still wouldn't say her name!

"Vy don't you suggest that when you are paying for the vacation?" Viktor snapped.

Hermione sighed. She and her famous fiancée got into these tiffs about once every six hours. "You ought to know by now, _sweetie_, I'm fairly punctual. Stop worrying."

"That's rich," he said huffily, "'Ermy Granger suggesting one lightens up! Oh, the hypocrisy."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. How could he be so petulant in the home, when around his amorous fans he was the definition of all that is good and kind?

Hermione hauled her luggage into the spacious living room of their flat and smiled at him with as assuaging a manner as she could. Three days ago, on her twentieth birthday, Viktor had proposed to her after a six year courtship. She reminded herself firmly that they were in love, that she was used to his rough-around-the-edges persona. She kissed him lightly as he visibly calmed down.

Viktor picked up her luggage with one hand, and took her hand with the other. He led her out of the apartment, down the street, and around the corner, into a dark alleyway.

Hermione shivered in the cold London air as Viktor checked his watch and muttered something about five minutes. He glanced up at her and smiled. She smiled back and looked pointedly at the extra coat he carried in his arm, but he seemed completely unaware of her frigid state.

"Ah, there it is," Viktor said five minutes later, nodding towards a rusting tin can. She wrinkled her nose. Yes, the Portkeys were inconspicuous for a reason, but must they always be so dirty? But she reached out and grabbed a hold anyway, determined not to let their fight or their dirty Portkey or that bastard Jack Frost ruin their romantic getaway.

"Three...two...von..." he counted off. With a familiar tugging behind her navel, Hermione felt her feet leave the ground. She closed her eyes and braced herself for landing.

_Thud!_

Viktor had fallen over. She laughed and helped him up, trying not to care that he looked like a fool.

"Viktor, you have seriously got to learn how to use a Portkey properly!" she said. When his face began morphing into an ugly expression of belligerent embarrassment, she quickly added, "We can't have the world's favorite Seeker falling over all the time, now can we?"

His face returned to it's normal color, though his disposition didn't completely recover.

She still wasn't sure she loved him. He never gave her that fluttery feeling, the 'butterflies' Ron always spoke of when he talked about Hannah. She knew for a fact that she never adopted the dreamy, vacant look Harry developed while he was watching Ginny look after their children. She only knew this because she often tried and failed to look in love with him—people often asked her if she was feeling quite alright and if she needn't make use of the bathroom down the hall when she attempted this. She wasn't overly attracted to him. Even his residual accent irritated her, so she was grateful that he had mostly lost it. He was a slob around the house. Plus, she had had about three orgasms from him in as many years. And those were only on days he had come home smelling of firewhiskey. Yes, women could be left to their own devices, but that didn't mean that they didn't want a man's help every once in awhile!

She knew, to be fair, she had to take the good things into account, too. He was _so_ sweet to her sometimes. He had financial security—to put it mildly. He could afford things that were beyond her wildest dreams! Well, they would have been beyond her wildest dreams if she hadn't been dating the man for six years. Her friends just loved him. She seldom came across a person who didn't, what with him being Mr. Big Shot Quidditch Man. He never questioned her about her work, although she had to try to convince herself this was a good thing instead of just another quality of his seeming lack of interest in her thoughts and feelings. He could be very romantic and thoughtful.

The big catch, the thing that kept her going, was that they had been together for six years. He was obviously not planning on leaving anytime soon. Things were comfortable—she really knew him, and he really knew her. She could be herself around him, and she knew what things really irked him or made him happy. The same went for him. Sometimes she caught herself thinking this familiarity was overrated, but then she reminded herself to be practical. She'd read about mad, blinding, passionate, desperate love. She did, after all, have to finish herself off with a good erotica novel most nights after Viktor went to sleep. But did it really exist? How could she go looking for that when the sensible thing to do was snoring away in boring practicality right next to her?

She shook these thoughts from her mind and tried to focus on here and now.

Here and now, as it stood, was an exorbitant casino resort in Paris. This little mini-vacation was in celebration of their engagement. Not that that made any difference, really, since Viktor had a reason for going on these little trips about twice a month.

Hermione followed Viktor through the casino acquiescently, wondering when she had become so docile. Where was the passionate, irascible, my-way-or-the-highway girl of her youth? She sighed again, adding searching for that girl to her ever growing 'Things To Do To Fix My Psyche' list.

Viktor checked them in, and Hermione noticed that Viktor's gaze didn't linger a moment too long on the attractive concierge's overexposed breasts. Where was the man in him? Did he have no eyes? Then she recalled her self-proclaimed title of Avid Feminist and scolded herself for thinking so degradingly.

After a twenty-floor ride up, they finally reached their destination. Viktor described their luxurious suite, one of the two really fancy suites in the hotel, on the way up. Hermione had stopped listening by floor three, and had stopped nodding along as if she were listening by floor seven. When they finally reached their floor, Viktor held the elevator doors open for Hermione before sweeping her off her feet—not figuratively, of course—and carrying her down the short hallway to their room. He opened the door and carried her across the threshold, smiling down at her with unexpected tenderness.

"I cannot vait to do this for real," he murmured before kissing her hair and putting her down. She smiled and told herself the urge to throw up didn't come from the counterfeit feeling she got from the action and had more to do with the elevator ride.

"Velcome to home sweet home for the next veek! Now, lets celebrate!" he said, putting his hands on her waist in some semblance of what he must have thought of as gentle ardor. He began to kiss her hungrily, pushing her back on the large, overly fluffy bed. She could barely refrain from rolling her eyes.

_'Here we go. Again.'_

* * *

Draco Malfoy glanced up from the craps table and looked back down, only to do a double take. His hand fell from the tiny waist of his female companion.

Was that Hermione Granger?

Yes, it certainly was. He surveyed her—the same bushy brown hair framed same fair face, which he had never actually looked closely at before. Not bad cheekbones, no unsightly blemishes. She had a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose that he'd never taken any notice of before. Her mouth was the sculpted, natural crimson lips most women tried to achieve with lip gloss and surgery. In his opinion, it usually resulted in uncanny likeness to red water ballons, but he never mentioned that to his dates. Her eyes, though admittedly rather boring, had a spark in them that didn't suit the compliant way she was following her beau through the casino.

He had to admit, the girl had grown up well. Her body had grown in all the right places, not that she knew how to dress to accentuate it. She was wearing an effortless get-up of jeans and a bagger sweater, but he could discern voluptuous curves and a practically nonexistent waist under the fabric. It was nice to see a woman who actually appeared to have something to play with in the bedroom—things his more vulgar mates referred to as 'handles', things women seemed completely petrified of having these days. She seemed to be wearing a small amount of makeup, and her bushy hair resembled wild curls, so he deduced that she had finally begun to put a little effort into her appearance once public outings with her famous boyfriend became mandatory.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if she were quite devoted to the someone she was with. He knew exactly who that someone was--the entire wizarding world knew that the great Viktor Krum had proposed to girl genius and philanthropist extraordinaire, Hermione Granger. He just hadn't known she had grown into something he could actually appreciate.

It was no matter, really, that she was there with someone. Three out of four people can always be bought. He knew Granger would be the fourth—or at least, the Granger from school, though he wasn't sure if that Granger existed anymore, since he knew for damn sure that Granger wouldn't follow anyone around in such a meek manner as the girl who'd just walked by him was—but he was certain Krum would be first. Famous people were all the same. He bid his date adieu and headed for the elevators.

Draco smirked to himself as he walked, as he smoothed out the rough edges of his plan with his mind. You see, he and Hermione had grown to respect each other during that terrible war. They didn't become friends, no, but when Draco made his hate of Voldemort widely known, they had developed a mutual understanding. He had long since given up on his hate of Mudbloods, though he could hardly stomach Muggles. Since he'd allowed himself Muggleborns, though, he hadn't found one that struck his fancy. At least, not until he'd seen Hermione Granger in all her mature glory. And Granger, without any warning, earned herself a high-priority spot on Draco's List.

He entered his suite--2001--and immediately grinned. Hearing, you see, had always been one of his better senses, and what he heard in the next room pleased him immensely.

He heard one passionate set of deep moans and groans and howls, with a slight Bulgarian accent. A Bulgarian rich enough to afford a penthouse? Had to be Krum. But, even better than that, he heard another set of vaguely familiar, feminine, dainty moans and praises that would barely have hidden the disinterest to the normal person's ear. But Draco Malfoy, who had nymphomaniacal tendencies to say the least, could detect this sort of thing even better than the normal sex-addict. She wasn't just bored--she wasn't enjoying this 'Lovemaking Session' at all. She would rather be whipping herself like that ridiculous character from the Da Vinci code. Hermione--for it was her, most definitely--hated having sex with her fiancée, who thought she enjoyed it greatly! This just made everything so much easier.

He popped a new bottle of expensive champagne in silent celebration of his newest conquest.


	2. Chapter 2

About a half hour and a lot of mock pleasure on Hermione's part later, she and her new fiancée left their room, headed for the casino to partake in some of the hotels highlighted features. Namely gambling, or as Hermione referred to it as, 'the useless squandering of excessive funds by the obscenely rich', not that she didn't toss the dice every once in awhile herself.

And who should they bump into in the elevator? One Draco Malfoy, a stunning paragon of smugness with his Chesire grin.

"Oh, Hermione, I didn't know you were here!" Draco said, smiling warmly. He took her hand and kissed it. "Always a pleasure" He then turned to Viktor and held out his hand. "And I would assume this is Viktor Krum, celebrated Quidditch Seeker?"

Hermione smiled lightly. In the last days of the war, he had become friendlier to her. She no longer considered him an enemy, but he was far from a friend. Viktor, on the other hand, seemed to like him a lot.

"Oh, yes! I am Viktor Krum. And I know who you are too! I have seen you in magazines. You are Mr. Draco Malfoy?" Viktor said.

"Yes, I'm him," Draco said with a broad grin.

"How do you know my 'Ermy?" Viktor asked.

"Ah, we go way back. School friends and such," Draco lied. "I'm on my way to a party in Wizard Paris. Would you care to join me?"

Viktor nodded excitedly, while Hermione inwardly groaned. But it would be rude to refuse his offer, not that she would be able to drag Viktor away, and it would be more entertaining than watching Viktor waste all of his money, so she took her former enemy's offered arm and they were off.

* * *

The chummy invitations and activities continued to come in from Draco for the next few days. They found themselves sailing on yachts, VIP rooms at clubs, midnight pool parties, wizard golf on exclusive courses, et cetera. Viktor could not have been having a better time, and even Hermione found herself enjoying it, which was far from expected.

On the fourth evening of their vacation, the couple found themselves in Draco's suite with a couple of bottles of champagne and a wizard pool table. Hermione was lounging on oversized white leather couch reading while Viktor and Draco played and talked.

Eventually, the conversation rolled around to just north of awkward.

"You are a lucky man, Draco," Viktor said to his host.

"I'd say you were luckier, Vik."

"Vy do you say that? You have everything," Viktor replied, baffled. This disgruntled Hermione a bit, because even she could tell what Draco was getting at when he said the 'luckier' bit. Was Viktor really _that_ dense?

"You see the beautiful woman on the couch? She's yours. Count your blessings, mate. All I've got is tramps falling all over my wallet." Ah, there's the awkward part. Hermione blushed at Malfoy calling her beautiful. She couldn't seem to get the idea that _he_ wouldn't fall after using a Portkey out of her head.

"Oh. 'Ermy. Yes, I am very lucky," Viktor coughed. Good save--not.

"Yes, you two seem quite in love. But I wonder--loves makes you do crazy things, they say. But so does money, right?" Draco asked.

"Vell...I guess...I vould do a lot for money. But love is more important."

"Well, yes, some would say. But I wonder...hypothetically, of course...what would you say if I offered you one million galleons for one night with your wife?" Draco pressed on.

Viktors eyes got wide. Draco could see him mouthing, '_One million galleons!_' Hermione yelped and jumped up, walking over to the pool table.

"Surely not!" she cried. Viktor shot her a dirty look.

"Hypothetically, you mean? Or are you not joking?" Viktor inquired.

"That's up to you," Draco said.

Viktor's eyes lit up. "Are you offering, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Are you accepting, Mr. Krum?"

"N--" Hermione started to shout, but Viktor sent her an angry glare that would have stopped a lion attacking a wildebeest.

"'Ermy, dearest, I think it's time you go to sleep. Yes, you are obviously very tired. Please go back to our room. Now."

"Now, Viktor, calm yourself. Nothing of this caliber would go into effect without your wife's consent, of course," Draco said. "It simply wouldn't do for such a woman to be bartered off as if she were a piece of meat."

Suddenly, Hermione felt a wave of calm run over her. Viktor's voice was saying in the back of her head, _'Hermione, say yes, love. Do it for me, do it if you love me_.' Hermione nodded meekly.

"Wonderful!" Draco said. "Does tomorrow night work for you?" Hermione nodded again, as did Viktor.

Viktor dropped his angry gaze, keeping a tight hold on his wand behind his back, and shook Draco's hand.

* * *

Viktor let Hermione off the Imperius Curse immediately after they were locked safely and soundly back in their luxurious suite. Hermione immediately slapped him across the face, going red, trembling with rage.

"VIKTOR! HOW COULD YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she screamed at him.

"Darling, darling, please understand. I am doing it for you. Please, darling. One million galleons! I will buy you whatever you want. One night, just one night. One million galleons!"

Hermione stared at him in shock and disgust. "One million galleons? You have that much money at least six times over! Why are you so greedy? You disgust me!"

Viktor chuckled darkly. "Don't be like that Hermione. I am not stupid. I know just as vell as you know that you vould like to experience someone else before we wed."

Hermione went on glaring until his last comment hit her.

'_Someone other than Viktor_? _Thank Merlin_. _This might be worth it, after all_. _Even if it is Malfoy_.'


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione awoke with a jolt from the only hour she'd been able to sleep that night, which had, of course, resulted in a nightmare. She had dreamt she'd gone into Draco's hotel room, which was all done up in green and silver and posters of Viktor Krum, and he'd started making love to her only to turn into Viktor, who was yelling at her, who turned into Snape, who was giving her an evil eye that resembled the one she received from Viktor on such a regular basis. She shook her head clear of these thoughts and rolled out of bed. She could faintly hear Viktor and Draco making arrangements and joking and chatting in the next room. She pulled on her gray silk robe and padded out onto the balcony her balcony. She tried not to think about the coming evening, but how could she not?

Viktor stepped clumsily onto the balcony minutes later, knocking her coffee mug off the glass table in the process.

"Oh, lovely," she spat sarcastically.

"You cannot still be mad at me," Viktor said, rubbing her shoulders awkwardly. "Von million galleons, I shall give you everything you desire."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up. Since when did she care about money and fancy stuff? "You already do, not that I ask for much. What time and where?" she asked in a businesslike tone.

"Five this evening, you vill meet him in his room," Viktor said. He pressed his lips against hers lightly. "Please know that I love you, and that I am doing this for you," he pleaded.

She allowed a begrudging smile and muttered, "Well, at least your heart is in the right place."

* * *

Draco watched Viktor leave his room with a satisfied smile on his face. He would have had Granger with or without this deal. But the fact that Viktor was handing her to him? It just made all of this so much better. He knew she was hurt, so he was willing to bet he would get more than just her body. Which was something he'd been looking for since he found out that Pansy had been cheating on him. He had thought he'd had her. He needed to prove to himself he could have someone.

Draco went downstairs and gambled until 4:45.

Overall win: 50,000 galleons.

Mr. Malfoy, you are one lucky man.

* * *

Hermione started getting ready at about three o'clock, since she could find nothing to take her mind off of the coming evening. She showered, blowdried her hair, straightened it, curled it, scrunched it, curled it again, and finally put it up in a long, wavy, soft, rich, dark chesnut ponytail. She neglected eyeshadow and eyeliner in favor of one light coat of mascara and a slick of Carmex. She dusted her cheeks with a subtle bronzer and stepped into the large walk-in closet of the room. She pulled down a black, floaty, knee length skirt and a lilac Weird Sisters t-shirt. She stepped into white, knee-high knit boots and did one final check.

She looked normal. Which was weird.

She took a deep breath and stepped across the hallway, knocking on the door that read '2001'.

* * *

Draco hastily changed his emerald dress shirt for a black one as he heard the knock. He knew Hermione would recognize the Slytherin reference, and figured he'd ought to not upset her anymore than she was already bound to be. He didn't want to make this night any worse for her.

Not that she wouldn't be enjoying it.

He buttoned all of the buttons but the top two and didn't bother putting on shoes as he strode across the room to the door. His hair was tousled, not at all like usual, but he knew Hermione wouldn't mind. He pulled the door open and smiled.

"Evening," he said, taking in her appearance. She looked nothing like normal Hermione, who was all designer business suits, or sweats that could have been Weasley's. He only knew about those because once while giving a report to McGonagall at the Order of the Phoenix HQ, he had seen her in them. Eating Nutty Coconut ice cream. She hadn't noticed him.

"Evening..." she muttered, not looking him in the eye.

He stepped to the side and motioned for her to come in. She did, and he said, "You don't seem as excited as Viktor made you out to be."

She glared at him. He lifted his arms as if to say, 'What? Don't look at me!'.

"Can we just...get this over with?" she asked. He shut the door and found himself right above her. She tried not to like his hot breath on her neck as he whispered, "No...I'm not like your dear Viktor. My priority is you."

She giggled involuntarily and leaned back into him slightly before stepping away.

"How would you know how he is in bed?" she demanded.

"I'm only right next door, and boy are you bad at faking. Let me show you why everyone else likes it so much," he said, stepping towards her and putting his hands on her waist. She playfully twisted away from him and grabbed a pillow, hitting him lightly with it.

"Oh? Been eavesdropping, have we?" Hermione said amusedly. She whacked him with the pillow again, saying, "take this for your impudence!"

"Oh, now you're really going to get it, Miss! You messed up my hair!" he mock-growled, grabbing a pillow and hitting her butt with it, lunging towards her.

She spun out of his grasp again, hitting his back with her pillow. "Catch me if you can!"

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, getting up and dusting his shirt off.

"Mayyyy-be," she said. She hit him hard with the pillow.

"Oh, that's it!" he said, lunging for her again, and this time catching her, bringing them both toppling down onto the plush black carpet. He wriggled on top of her and held her hands above her head, tossing the pillows away from them. "Say uncle!"

"Never!" she said. He held both of her wrists with one hand and started tickling her with the other. She started wriggling about and laughing hysterically, tears pouring out of her eyes. "Stop! Stop stop stop! Uncle! UNCLE!"

He smirked and stopped tickling her. His hand came to a rest on her hip. "That's better."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He could feel her panting into his mouth, but her could also feel her response. He dipped his tongue into her mouth before realizing her mouth was open, waiting. He let go of her wrists to run his hands up and down her torso. He pushed her skirt off gently. And then, he did what Draco Malfoy does best.

* * *

And left her salivating for more.

* * *

And more.

* * *

And one more.

* * *

And a quickie.

* * *

They finally resurfaced at about three in the morning. He leaned up against the couch, pulling a blanket over them.

She rested her head on his bare chest and asked, "Do you think you could give Viktor lessons? I'm about to start weeping at the thought of going back to him after that."

"Well, I could give him lessons...or I could give you monthly sessions," he grinned mischievously.

"Oh, how I want to say yes. But one, Viktor would never go for it. Two, monthly is not nearly enough. I might have to go get myself a gimp," she joked, kissing his chest.

"Does he have to know? If he finds out, I could just pay him. He seems to like money a lot," Draco said, placing a light kiss on the top of her head and gently massaging her hip with his thumb.

"Ugh. I know. He's such an asshole! I don't know how he could have done that!" she said angrily, though she knew she should really be thanking him.

"Leave him," Draco said. "Then you'd be free to use me as your gimp whenever you'd like. I know you sure as hell weren't faking that time, and you're grand. I'd clear my schedule for you anytime."

"No...I don't want to be alone. I'm not sure if I love him, but...he's better than nothing, you know?" Hermione said, shocked that she was admitting this.

"Well, if you ever need a place to stay after you've left him—and you will, let me assure you, be it now or in ten years—my place is always open. And I mean always, girlfriend, wife, whatever. Though there will be a fee..." he said.

"Oh, thanks for the support, Draco," she muttered.

"Hey...if you listen closely, it really was support," he murmured into her hair.

"This is what I want, you know? Someone who'll just sit with me after, not just go to sleep or get up and run around doing pointless things. Someone who'll talk _to_ me, instead of at me or about me. Now, the skill in bed, that I don't expect. There will only ever be one you," she said, closing her eyes.

He smiled. He liked it too. Which was shocking him, because he never did this.

"Yeah. Totally," he said, lifting her chin with a finger. He studied her face, her rosy cheeks, her tousled hair, her shining eyes. Did they all look like this after, or was it only her? He had never bothered looking, and they were usually gone by the time he woke up, or else he kicked them out.

He smiled and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Let me show you one more time what you'll be missing."

* * *

At nine the next morning, Draco helped her dress as begrudgingly as she felt, pulling her skirt up her legs for her, pulling her shirt over her head. He kissed her cheek and handed her back her shoes.

"Call me if you're ever horny, bored, horny, alone, or horny, alright?" he said. "I wasn't kidding about the things I said earlier."

She nodded, knowing she would never be able to, no matter how much she wanted. She kissed him lightly on the lips one more time before tearing away and stepping across the hall, avoiding his gaze because she knew it would pull her back in.

Then she shut her hotel door on the whole experience, wishing she never had to leave his room.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione stepped into her hotel suite quietly, trying to keep the clicking of the door as gentle as possible. She closed her eyes, praying her overbearing fiancée was asleep.

Unfortunately, luck seemed to be punishing her for enjoying the last fourteen hours so greatly.

"'Ermy! Vhere have you been?" Viktor yelled, coming out of the bedroom to greet her with wild eyes and a dangerous expression.

Hermione gulped and made herself sound disgusted. _Not that I have to try very hard_, she thought, surveying his ill-fitting boxer briefs and the spatter of toothpaste just southeast of his lips. "Doing the despicable thing you forced me to do to suit your sick monetary obsession?"

"Don't pretend to be mad vith me 'Ermy Granger, you sick bitch," he shouted. He'd apparently worked himself up into one of his tempers while waiting for her. "If you really veren't enjoying yourself then you vould have been back here hours ago!"

At this, Hermione really lost her temper. "Sick bitch? _Sick bitch?! _I'm sick? You forced your fiancée into sexual relations with another man for money that you _don't even need_! You know what? YES! I enjoyed it! I ENJOYED HAVING SEX WITH DRACO MALFOY! You know why? Because the only person I ever sleep with is you, and you're terrible at it! I fake orgasms every time we have sex! So fuck you! I got to experience a good lover for one night, I say it would have been blasphemous for me to _not_ have enjoyed it, you git! I would—"

But Hermione never got to express to him what she would do, because his punch had sent her flying into the wall and robbed her of her conciousness.

* * *

"MMmmmffmm…" Hermione groaned about at hour later, when she was finally coming round. There was something very heavy on top of her. It took her a moment to realize that there was also something very unpleasant going on in her Nether regions. She had to blink a few times for everything to come into focus.

Then she realized that what was on top of her was Viktor, and what was going on 'down south' was something she was very used to, but it still wasn't fun.

"Get off me!" she screamed, trying to push him off of her. Her just laughed.

"What, so you can be Draco Malfoy's whore, but not for your own fiancée? Are you too good for me, 'Ermy?" he said savagely, but he pulled away from her. "Vell you know vhat? I'm sick of you and your pretentious bullshit and your officious attitude. So fuck you! Not that anyvon vould, since you're so frigid. I don't even know how I did it so many times."

Hermione curled up into a little ball as he started packing his suitcase She tried to stop the torrents of tears from pouring from her eyes, but they were inevitable. She didn't look at him as she said, "How could you let your inane greed and jealousy ruin us like this?"

He laughed again, and said, "You think that is vhat ruined this relationship? No, this relationship has been over for much longer than just this. I've only kept you around because my manager says to. But no longer. I've got pretty little Cho Chang vaiting for me in the lobby, anyvay. I just thought I'd get one last use out of you before I'm on my merry vay. But, of course, you have to ruin that like everything else. I'm going now. Since I'm a generous guy, I'll pick up the tab for this hotel room. I'll be in Fiji for a veek vith Cho. You'll have your shit out of my apartment by the time I get back or I'll throw it avay. Goodbye, Mudblood."

He threw her one last look of contempt before grabbing his luggage and walking out of the hotel room, ruining their relationship and her life just like that.

* * *

A few hours later, there was a gentle knock on the door to Hermione's suite. She had just been going over all the reasons she wanted to break up with him and trying to stop the tears. Honestly, she knew she'd be happy in a week, since she'd been quite sick of him too, but that didn't stop the hurt of being dumped. Or punched.

Hermione didn't bother to fix herself up, figuring it would just be the bottles of firewhiskey she'd ordered. She opened the door and stepped back to allow room for the cart. Instead, a rather perplexed looking Draco Malfoy stepped in, surveying the room.

Hermione looked around for the first time, realizing that the whole room was in disarray. It was understandable, what with the fight, an enraged Krum packing so hastily, and a depressed and already sort of drunk Hermione rampaging for anything of his leftover to destroy.

"Um…we had a little…tiff," Hermione muttered, looking down at her feet.

"No kidding," Draco said, still staring at the mess in awe. Finally, he looked over at her. "You just forgot your bra, I thought you'd—hey, what's that on your face?" he asked suddenly, gently grabbing her chin and pushing her face up. His face darkened as he observed what was undoubtedly a steadily worsening bruise

Hermione noted his rage and laughed sourly. "Oh, don't bother to look like that. It's not as if he'll do it again."

Just then, there was another knock on the door. This time it was indeed the excessive amount of liquor she'd ordered. She let the man in, tipped him, and shut the door behind him before glancing back at Malfoy, who still looked as livid as before.

She tossed him a bottle that he caught with ease. "Drink up," she said. "It's probably not going to be a fun story to hear."

* * *

"Oh, Ermienee," slurred one very drunk Draco Malfoy a few hours later, "how could you juss let'im treat you like tha? You're worth somuh more than tha."

Hermione giggled and rolled towards him on the king sized bed she had only twenty four hours ago been sharing with her fiancée. "I know aren I? Yer so nice, Draco Malf. I dunno how I hated you so muh in Hoggerts." She gave him a light kiss on the lips and rolled off to the side, still giggling.

"Mmmm," he said. "I didun really hate you, juss yer friends. You were juss so easy to get a ride—a rhine—a rise out uv."

She giggled again. "It's still easy-peasy fer you ta getta ride rhine rise outta me, ya know." He smiled and pulled her towards him, kissing her passionately. She smiled against his lips.

He pulled back and picked up her left hand and looked at her ring. "This is such a ugly ring. I'll buy you a hundred times prettier one, I promise." He kissed her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Ya know this is the lass place me and him err had sex. It was sooooooo bad. Bad bad bad."

"Less bern it!" Draco cried, sitting up. Hermione laughed and got up out of the bed, stumbling across the room to look in the drawers of the desk.

"I can't fine the matches!" she yelled.

"Fine," he said. "Wull juss hafta settle for throwing tha ugly ringer outta the window and having secks all o'er this bed to erase his memry, may he be bernin' in hell an' get disease from Chong."

And they proceeded to do exactly that.

* * *

I PROMISE I WILL UPDATE SOON.

VERY SOON.

LIKE WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK SOON.  
SOOOO SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG

I'LL GET RIGHT BACK ON TRACK!


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